#whit writes

“Hmm… I’m sure we’ve got some sinus meds somewhere, but maybe drink the tea Jimin-ah made, okay?”

“In a minute,” he grumbles a soft response. He shifts his head up, bumping Jimin’s hand; Jimin grins and gets back to scratching his scalp. “Comfy…”

“Don’t sit there for too long,” Jin warns anyway. He stands back up, glancing towards the window as he ponders for a moment. “We don’t actually have any medication here. But there’s uh… Wall… Wall-something is here. It has drugs.”

That gets both Jimin and Taehyung to laugh.

“YAH! I didn’t mean that!” But he grins, play-kicking at them both. “We’ll go pick something up. HOB-AAAAAH!” Jin disappears around the corner, and soon Hoseok, mouth full of some sweet pastry, grunts and shuffles after him.

As the noise fades, Jimin leans over to pat his friend’s shoulder. “Okay, up you get. Drink some tea now before Jin gets mad at both of us.”

~*~

The nyquil definitely helped, but it had a very adverse effect of what they had been asking for. The group had gathered in the house’s little den area, where Namjoon had set up a mini studio layout for practicing and writing on the little table in the room. Scattered around were various couches and seats, and Taehyung, who had claimed a comfy armchair early in, had definitely fallen asleep.

Namjoon, a little surprised, looked at Jin and Hoseok. “What did you guys give him? We’re loud as hell and he’s not even rolling around.”

Jin brings the bottle over to Namjoon, shrugging a little. “It seems like it’s best for treating… whatever he’s got,” he said. “We tried to translate it, but the ingredients were like Pancold.”

Reading the front label for a second, Namjoon sighs. They should’ve brought one of their more English-proficient guards with them. Or better yet, he should’ve gone with them instead of holing up in the makeshift studio den. They weren’t wrong, not at all, but Namjoon knew this medication well. He’d taken it for a few days a few years ago when he’d gotten sick overseas.

“No wonder,” he grumbles. “This makes everyone drowsy.”

Taehyung lets out a rather impressive snore. They glance over at him, then at Jungkook who’s taken to balancing throw pillows on his crossed arms. So far, he’s got four, and one held up between the stack and Taehyung’s head.

Namjoon sighs. “Let’s just call it for today.”

“Yeah… We should just order dinner. Should we get something with soup for Tae-Tae?” Hoseok asks, watching Jungkook intensely as the maknae tries to balance the fifth pillow. Taehyung sniffles, mouth moving for a few seconds, and then he lets out another deep, wet snore. “You know… I’m kind of impressed.”

“Honestly? Me too.”

The seventh pillow finally wakes Taehyung up, but he’s so groggy from the medication that all he does is shift to the couch, where Yoongi’s been testing beats on his phone, and curls up at his side.

“Okay, Tae-Tang-ie,” Yoongi says with a laugh, referring to his cat.

Taehyung lets out a silly little “Meow” sound before he falls asleep right on his hyung. 

~*~

“Maybe we should get him more soup,” Jin muses from one of the SUVs they’ve rented. They had a meeting earlier with some of the production staff, but Taehyung’s fever had begun to spike and he opted to stay in the house and just call in. Surprisingly, he was quite attentive during the meeting, despite Jin pushing meds into him before they left, but he received that sleeping emoji text the moment it was over.

But he knows the rest of the boys aren’t all in the mood for just a brothy soup. Thankfully, Jimin seems to be on the same page, scrolling around on his phone from the passenger seat. “What about chicken, hyung? Fried chicken, some good starchy sides.”

“Yah! And my cheeks will be puffy for days!” Jin complains.

“They’re already puffy.” Jimin’s small finger comes to poke his cheek, and Jin frees one hand from the steering wheel to swat at him. “Let’s just do a chimaek night! Tae-yah can still just crash with us. We had a really productive meeting, and we get a few more days to just plan and fiddle. And we can just let Hobi-hyung do all the fiddling since he’s not listening anyway.”

“Eh?”

That gets their dance leader from the backseat to look up from his phone. “I heard my name, what?”

“Noooooothing, hyung!” Jimin says with a grin. “I’m gonna call Joonie, I bet he wants to participate.”

Hoseok knows it’s useless to ask Jimin for more details, especially since Jimin calls Namjoon’s phone immediately after and puts it on speaker.

“Ya! Jimin-ah! Did you forget something at the office?”

Jimin laughs. “Nooo, I had an idea! Chimaek? We get some jjigae for Tae-yah, and enough sides and snacks to put us in nap-mode?”

“Chiiiimaaaaek!” Namjoon screams into the phone, followed by Jungkook singing it aloud from the background. “Let’s do it! Movie night and we can do karaoke or whatever.”

Jin just laughs. “Every time we get together, it turns into karaoke or whatever.”

“Because we’re noisy,” Hoseok supplied hopefully. “Good thing Taehyungie can sleep through a hurricane. We’re gonna get noisy.”

“We can just give him nyquil again,” Jimin snickers. “He’s not gonna care.”

~*~

And honestly, Taehyung was grateful. He’s back in the living room, a throw blanket wrapped around his shoulders, tucked into Yoongi’s side on one of the couches while Jin feeds him. He’s not that sick, not really, but given it’s an annoying enough bug that he hasn’t been able to shake, he decides to milk it for his comfort.

He is their baby, after all. (Jungkook doesn’t count.)

Yoongi doesn’t complain about being a human pillow, merely reaching over to adjust the blanket across his lap if it moves, and Taehyung feels absolutely loved. He’s in Namjoon’s warmest hoodie and a pair of fuzzy socks Hobi bought him earlier from the convenience store. The blankets were pre-warmed from the dryer, courtesy of Jungkook. And the soup is honestly delicious. Jimin also promised him head scratches when he’s done eating.

He opens his mouth, letting Jin feed him another spoonful.

“Aish, you’re too big for this!” Jin mutters, splitting a piece of tofu with the spoon. He’s complained every time Taehyung looks smug, but Taehyung knows he’s glad he’s finally stopped coughing for a while. And honestly, whatever cough suppressant the doctor had prescribed him felt like a lifesaver; he hasn’t coughed in the better part of an hour.

“Hyung?” Taehyung asks Jin softly. “Tea?”

Jin doesn’t even complain, merely picks up the glass with a bendy straw inside and holds it up for Taehyung to take a sip. After all, staying hydrated is key.

Taehyung scoots back when he heard Hoseok laugh, watching as the older rapper falls off the couch. Jimin, giggling with Jungkook, kick at Namjoon as he grins back. They’re silly, as always, and loud, and fussy, and a lot, but honestly? Taehyung hasn’t been this happy in a long while here, even with a pesky cold.

And if he sneaks a beer later just because he wanted one, still wrapped up with the throw towel around his head, he knows Yoongi doesn’t rat him out about adding alcohol to the medication cocktail he’s been on. He even opens it for him, and another for himself. Taehyung knows he’s spoiled, and he’s glad that even after their time apart, they’re still as close as ever.

Both of them, sitting on the patio outside, freeze when they hear Jin stomping down the stairs. Yoongi snatches Taehyung’s beer and hides them both behind his legs, just as their oldest opens the back door.

“Tae-yah?” Jin calls softly. “Did you take your last dose for the night?”

He’s been on it for medication detail. Taehyung looks at Yoongi, who waves off his hyung easily. “I’ll get it for him when we go back inside. The fresh air’s good for him.”

Taehyung gives Jin his biggest boxy smile, nodding. “Yoongi-hyung’s got me.”

Yoongi merely nods. “We’ll be back in soon.”

“Okay. Don’t stay out here too late, it’s chilly.” And with that, Jin heads inside again.

Yoongi sighs, handing Taehyung his beer back before grabbing his own. “We were only getting fresh air. Nobody else needs to know.”

“Know what? Fresh air’s good for me.” And with that, they both laugh and take a sip. They take their time finishing their drinks, looking up at the stars while Yoongi tells Taehyung all sorts of random facts he knows from the constellations they can see with the porch light off. But once the junebugs begin to float around, the two retreat indoors. It’s late, somewhere closer to two or three in the morning, but they’d never been one for proper sleep schedules. Occupational hazard of idol work, Yoongi figures. He and Taehyung share a sink to brush their teeth, and Taehyung whines enough that Yoongi actually applies his moisturizer for him before giving him his dose and water.

“C’mon, Tae-yah. Bedtime for you.”

“Wh…at?” That’s when Yunho finally forces his eyes open. The light makes him cringe, unshed tears releasing down his cheeks, the sides of his face, vision blurred, but relief comes in the form of Hongjoong’s hand blocking his eyes from the overhead lights. Hongjoong leans down to look into Yunho’s eyes. Yunho can see the crease of Hongjoong’s brows looking down at him. But seeing his leader there, he feels a little better. Even if he’s still a little lost on what happened, at least Hongjoong is there.

“You might have a concussion. Just keep laying down, we’re going to wait for the med staff, okay?”

“Stay?”

“Yeah, I’m gonna stay.”

Yunho smiles, eyelids slowly fluttering closed. He blinks them open when he hears Hongjoong shout his name, his eyes looking a little wild and panicked. Yunho hasn’t seen him look so shocked in a while. When they make eye contact, Yunho can see relief flood Hongjoong’s face.

“You gotta stay awake, Yunho. Keep looking at me, okay?”

“O… okay.” That will be hard. His eyelids feel so heavy, and it hurts more. But for his captain, he’ll try his best. Yunho opens his mouth to speak again, but his tongue feels heavy in his mouth. The noise around him adds to the pounding in his head.

“Do you remember where we are, Yunho?”

Yunho blinks at him, and he feels Hongjoong’s thumbs brushing under his cheeks again. “We… A film set?”

Hongjoong nods. “Do you remember what song?”

“Mhmm,” Yunho grumbles. “It’s… it’s…” His tongue moves, he says a word, he’s not even sure if it’s Korean. Doesn’t think it’s Japanese either, but it definitely doesn’t sound right. “That one.”

Hongjoong nods. “That’s not it at all,” he laughs.

Hongjoong’s chuckle makes Yunho smile, and his eyes close for a moment. Trying to open them takes energy. “I don’t remember the name… But I’m… blue.”

“Yeah, you’re in blue.”

“Yeah. Yeah. Blue.”

He hears Hongjoong shout his name again. When did he close his eyes? But Hongjoong sighs again, before looking away. Two blurry forms appear above him, and by the time he blinks again, he’s strapped onto a stretcher with a nice young woman telling him he’ll be okay. She’s pretty, and her smile makes him feel like she’s telling the truth. He tries to give her a smile, but he feels a pressure focused on his cheeks and an odd smell approaches his senses. Weird… A beeping behind him slows down to something simpler, and he tries to turn to look at it—but he can’t move his head at all. So weird.

“Yunho-ya… stop trying to move.”

When he blinks open his eyes, he sees Hongjoong next to him. He feels his captain’s small hands holding onto one of his and squeezes it gently. The squeeze has Hongjoong smiling softly.

“That’s a good sign. Just keep still, Yunho-ssi.” That was the woman’s voice again. “Your head is strapped onto the gurney, and you’re buckled onto the stretcher for safety. We’re going to let the doctors at the hospital look at you.”

When Yunho’s eyes shift to Hongjoong, he sees his friend’s frown return, glancing up at something behind him. The beeping picks up, and fades into ringing in Yunho’s ears.

“Yunho… Yunho, breathe… breathe.” Hongjoong’s voice floods around the beeping. Yunho forces himself to take a deep breath, and the sound fades. It’s nicer… but this smell is odd. When he squints, he can see something’s rounded by his nose. Something in the back of his head tells him it’s an oxygen mask. His vision fades, but comes back to see Hongjoong talking to the woman. Their words don’t make any sense from what little he can hear, but he tries to glance around at his surroundings while they talk. Hongjoong’s grip is tight in his own, and every few moments he can feel him squeezing his hand. It’s comforting, in a way. The area… is bright, but he can see bits of metal here and there. He’s not even sure.

When they arrive, things make a little more sense. Yunho groans when the lights flood his view, but it dawns on him that they’re at the hospital. He has Hongjoong trying to shield his eyes from the overhead lights, but he moves back and his hand shifts away, and a man in a lab coat appears. He introduces himself, but a flashlight soon shines in Yunho’s eyes and he groans, eyes shutting. Or at least as best as he can; the man pulls his eyelids up and apologizes. “I just need to check your pupils; I really am sorry.”

Yunho whimpers in pain. But a few moments later, the pain fades. His consciousness fades along with it.

Yunho awakens to a different chemical scent and it makes him think of antiseptics. His mouth feels dry and sour, and his body just feels heavy. His nose feels stuffed. When he turns his head, he groans. The noise gets Hongjoong’s attention, where he can see the captain has moved to sit in the chair next to his bed. Hongjoong leans in.

“Don’t move too much, Yunho-ya. You’re going to bump your bruise.”

Yunho opens his mouth, experimentally—and his voice is rough, but his tongue doesn’t feel like lead anymore. “What… what happened?”

Hongjoong smiles, rather relieved at the sound of Yunho’s voice. “You fainted, and gave yourself a concussion on the way down.”

“…uh?” He fainted. Why does it sound like Hongjoong’s explained this before? But also… why does his mouth taste so raw? His lips are stiff, probably chapped. There’s an odd, metallic taste on his tongue.

“Let me get you some water. You look parched.” Hongjoong spends a moment grabbing the lidded cup for him, and pulling the straw tap open. He holds the cup’s straw to Yunho’s lips, and the taller one sips it carefully before he moves his head back.

“You got sick shortly after we got here, a few times. Honestly… you’re actually sick, too.”

Yunho sighs. “Sorry…”

“Don’t be sorry,” Hongjoong comforts gently. His small hand reaches up to smooth back Yunho’s bangs, and the vocalist smiles as he leans back against the pillows again. “The doctor said you have the flu. Do you remember what happened earlier? When we were filming?” Then, before Yunho delves into it, Hongjoong adds: “If you don’t right now, it’s okay. You’ve been out of it for a while, it’s okay if you don’t remember right away.”

Yunho can’t decide if that helps him feel better or not. But trying to think too hard just makes his brain feel foggy. He closes his eyes for a moment, but hums softly so Hongjoong knows he’s still awake. What he remembers last comes in odd waves, odd little blurbs of their filming. He remembers dancing, and fighting his legs to stay on beat, and trying to sharpen his movements when the director instructs them to. He remembers Seonghwa giving him water; he remembers telling Seonghwa he was fine, just a little tired. But he knew, and he chose to ignore it, and now his body wavers with the consequences of his own actions. When his frown grows. Hongjoong’s hand stills, and he shrinks more against the blanket as the realization dawns over his captain.

Hongjoong’s next question has a razor-sharp edge to it, holding back his own lecture, but it comes with a warning: do not lie to him. “Yunho… did you know you were sick when you woke up this morning?”

He hesitates, but then decides to admit the truth. It would be better in the long run. It can’t get any worse than it already has, if this already landed him in the hospital. “I… suspected I was getting sick. That’s… that’s why Yeosang and I ran a little late this morning. I hit snooze a couple of times and just slept in… accidentally slept in past my latest alarm.” And by then, all they did was go go go. Hurried out the apartment, rushed to the filming location, hurried to makeup. He hadn’t actually eaten anything besides a granola snack and water, which also didn’t help. The silence that falls over the two is so thick Yunho feels like he’s suffocating. He whimpers a little, along with a small grunt as his hand moves to his throat. Hongjoong moves the cup back to his mouth, and Yunho sips carefully from the straw, slowly chewing it about in his mouth.

“Yunho-ya… You should have come talk to me,” Hongjoong says softly. “Even if we couldn’t stop filming, I could have helped.” The older man sighs, moving the straw back when Yunho sinks back from it. His hand reaches over to pat Yunho’s shoulder softly, and Yunho wants to cry at how kind he’s being. Their captain has always been so caring, it sucks feeling like he’s letting him down like this. “You don’t have to hold things in on your own, you know. If you didn’t want to come to me, you should have told Seonghwa. Mingi. Anyone. We could have given you medication so you wouldn’t have felt as bad by yourself.” Hongjoong sighs, finally leaning back. He pours himself a glass of water from the pitcher at the bedside table, into one of the paper disposable cups. They had those too?

“You’re all going to worry me into an early grave, I swear!”

“I’m sorry?” Yunho looks up at him. “Don’t—”

“Don’t be sorry,” Hongjoong cuts him off. “Just… feel better. I hope you actually remember this conversation, though.”

Yunho blinks. What?

“Oh… right.” Hongjoong smiles, bringing the straw cup back to Yunho’s mouth, encouraging him to sip a little more. “When we first got here, you asked what happened… And when I chewed you out over it, you threw up all over your lap. You woke up maybe twice more? Both times trying to figure out what happened, but then you’d get sick and complain that your head hurt. They had to switch the oxygen mask to the one under your nose because you threw up on it… They’ve put so many medications in your IV all I know is it’s working. This is the most we’ve talked since we got here.”

That… explains why he felt so thirsty. He groans, leaning back from the pillow again to cover his face. “I’m so sorry, hyung, I… this… That’s so much!” He feels embarrassed, and rightfully so. It feels like he’s been part of a circus since he got here. But when he hears his captain laugh, a weight lifts from his shoulders; at least he knows Hongjoong isn’t mad at him, at least not for long. He may not have spoken up, but he’ll try and be better for the next time.

Hongjoong makes him sip a little more before his energy finally feels sapped, and he falls into an easy sleep. He wakes once when the doctor rouses him, a nurse changing the medication in his IVs, and answers a few questions before asking for where his captain was. Hongjoong is right by his side, and it’s enough to help him fall asleep again to the sound of his captain talking with the doctor. He wakes again at one point to go to the restroom, but his third rousing and it’s with his manager, Hongjoong and Jongho this time.

“Come on, you big baby,” Hongjoong teases him as they sit him upright.

The world swirls into view and Yunho feels nauseous for a moment but swallows it away. He’s shaky, and he can see Jongho frowning. “All the color drained from his face. Is it really a good idea to let him leave, hyung?”

“Leaving sounds great, honestly.” Yunho doesn’t want to stay in the hospital. Even if he didn’t realize they were actually getting him out of there.

Their manager answers him carefully. “They said he might still have side-effects for a few days, but he’s medically cleared, no lasting damage.” When his manager appears into view, the man’s hand brushes against Yunho’s face near his temple and the younger one grimaces as a sharp pain throbs from the touch. “Sorry, Yunho-ya. The doctor said you might have some sensitivity, didn’t know it was that much.”

“It… it just stings.”

“Oh, I bet! We’ll ice it on the way home.”

“Mm… kay.”

Jongho’s arms find his waist and ease him from the bed and onto shaky knees. He feels Hongjoong grip him more, and with the manager’s help, they ease him into a wheelchair. Hongjoong helps lift his feet onto the footrests. “There. Just sit tight, we’re just going back to the van.”

As a precaution, they hand him a travel sick-bag, and when they notice Yunho staring blankly at it, Jongho just wraps his fingers around it and moves his hand to his lap. It takes Yunho a moment to place it, in which he grimaces. He can hear his dongsaeng chuckle, reaching over to pat his elbow.

They wheel him towards a secure back exit, where another one of their other managers sits in the driver’s seat. It takes all three of them to comfortably ease Yunho into the van, and he finds himself laying against Hongjoong while Jongho sits in the front. Their manager climbs in next to them in the back seat just in case, securing the doors. Yunho doesn’t remember the drive home, but he does remember reaching the dorm and discovering he’s actually at Hongjoong’s apartment. He also remembers throwing up in the entryway, and crying about it.

Wooyoung wipes his face off and helps him change into his pajamas while Hongjoong prepares the bed and Jongho and their manager clean up the mess.

“Ssh, ssh,” Wooyoung coos softly. “It’s okay. You’re sick. It happens.”

“I—I just…”

Wooyoung shushes him again, helping him lay down on his side. At some point, he has an ice pack pressed on his head, right where the bruise lays—and it feels, oddly, very nice. He doesn’t realize he falls asleep again until Wooyoung shakes him to help him to his feet. He and Jongho lead him to Hongjoong’s room and tuck him in, and he curls up to Hongjoong’s side. The captain hugs him gently, and Yunho just drifts into a deep, deep slumber.

Yunho wakes up a few hours later to Hongjoong shaking his shoulder, calling his name softly. When he blinks open his eyes, the first question he gets is: “Do you remember your name?”

What an odd question. Yunho stares at him for a moment, eyes blearily trying to blink consciousness back into them as he tries to unpack the question. “Am I being pranked?” he asks—mumbles, really, deep and gravely as he rubs his eyes.

“No, just have to ask.”

“Jeong Yunho, and I’m tired, hyung.”

Hongjoong smiles a little. Yunho feels Hongjoong’s hand brush through his hair, smiling as his eyes fluttered closed. Hongjoong’s hand stills.

“Yunho-ya, don’t fall asleep yet. Wooyoung went to get you some more cold medicine. Your fever went up.”

Yunho looks at his captain for a few moments, trying to place what he’s telling him, but he decides it doesn’t matter enough. His head hurts, and he feels so groggy, he’s not sure if it’s from the illness, the injury, or the exhaustion. Wooyoung appears at bedside sometime before Yunho reopened his eyes, and he groans as the two help him sit up. They make it easy for him—the medication is in syrup form, way easier to drink down even though it tastes awful. And when he’s done and grimacing at the lingering taste, he gets a straw of apple juice, and he sips lazily at it until he nearly falls asleep with the straw.

He wakes again when he feels too hot, Wooyoung pressed against his side, blanket wrapped around him. He doesn’t mind the cuddling, but the heat makes him nauseous. He wiggles, trying to push the blanket away as carefully as possible without waking the younger member, but his movements feel sluggish and coordinated. It’s all for naught, he realizes, when he hears Wooyoung chuckle beside him.

“Too hot?” But instead of waiting on an answer, Wooyoung moves his leg away to help Yunho push the blanket down. Yunho kicks it off the rest of the way, but shudders with a chill and turns into Wooyoung’s side. Wooyoung throws his leg back over his own legs, and Yunho sighs.

“Better?”

“Mhmm.”

“Good. Go back to sleep, it’s still too early.”

Yunho closes his eyes. And he tries, but the stirring in his stomach has him wiggling a little in discomfort. The nausea hasn’t passed yet, and he’s irritated. He just wants to sleep. Wooyoung hugs him tighter, as if trying to smother him into keeping still. Usually, it’s comforting. But this time it just makes his stomach churn more.

“Woo—hold on—” Yunho tries to move back. He feels Wooyoung’s hands guide him to his side, the leg removed from his again—and he’s cold and he hates it—but soon the telltale heat of thick bile works its way up his throat, and he leans over the side of the bed, regrettably preparing to make a mess of the floor. Ah… Someone left a bucket. Yes! Yunho just leans in and lets himself be sick and mercifully avoids making any major mess, soothed by the hand rubbing circles on his back. It takes a few minutes before he finally feels done, only to have Seonghwa right in front of him with a cup of water.

“Sip,” Seonghwa encourages softly. “Rinse your mouth out, sweetheart.”

Yunho does as he says, glad Seonghwa’s still holding the glass. His hand is trembling. When he finishes rinsing his mouth, Seonghwa helps him take a few sips before Wooyoung eases him to lay back down, long nimble fingers resting on his forehead, careful not to brush against his bruise. They feel nice, and Yunho sighs softly at the sensation.

“Sorry you feel so rotten,” Wooyoung whispers. “Think you can stomach anything more to drink? You probably need more medicine.”

Yunho groans. “Don’t want any more… ‘m tired.”

“I know.” Seonghwa’s hand reaches over to rub his stomach softly. “We’ve got to keep your fever down or we have to take you back to the hospital. And I know you don’t want to go back.”

He didn’t remember most of the last trip the day prior—hell, he wasn’t even awake for most of the time he was there, according to Hongjoong—but he’s sure he doesn’t want to go back. Honestly, he doesn’t even want to leave the bed. But he lets Seonghwa help him drink another tiny cup of cough syrup, drinks almost a third of the water, and curls back into Wooyoung’s side. The younger one wraps himself around him, and the warmth settles him down easily.

“He kicked away the blanket?” Seonghwa asks softly.

“I think it got hot. I’ve got him, hyung, he’s a good cuddle buddy.”

Seonghwa laughs. Yunho can hear him give a soft kiss, presumably to Wooyoung, before feeling lips on the uninjured side of his forehead giving him one as well. He smiles at the sensation. The two talk for a moment, and Yunho soon feels an ice pack press against his bruise again. Sighing into the cool temperature, he falls asleep easily. He ends up sleeping most of the day away, waking up only to use the bathroom and that was only because Hongjoong began worrying about dehydration. They can’t get him to stay awake long enough to eat a full meal, but a few spoonfuls of broth, another set of questions and a new dose of medication, and Yunho goes back to bed, curled up this time around Mingi with Hongjoong on the edge of the bed next to him. He wakes the next day to their manager holding the ice to his bruise, and the older man smiles at him.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty.”

“Ah… good morning.” The young idol smiles at him, before letting out a heavy yawn. “I slept through everything?”

“Through the night, at least. It’s good, all you need to do is rest right now.” His manager assures him that the others are just at the studio working on various schedules, and he’s not missing anything he can’t catch up later. They’re rescheduling the second day of photoshoots for when he’s cleared by his doctor, which right now is in two weeks for now, depending on how well he heals. “Breathe, Yunho… It’s okay. We’re just going to relax, and take it day by day. You’ll be okay.”

He didn’t even realize his breathing had picked up until the manager had him follow his breathing. He already felt drained, but he just woke up. The manager laughs when Yunho yawns and mumbles, “Hyung, I don’t want to be tired.”

Their thoughtful manager gets Yunho to get out of bed and they shuffle on a long, lazy walk down the apartment hallway. Yunho clings to the older man’s arm a little too hard, and they stop a few times when he begins to feel woozy, but he feels a little better once he makes it back. By the time Hongjoong returns, Yunho’s curled up in a blanket on the couch, using their manager’s leg as a pillow as he sleeps once again.

“He ate a little bit of soup,” the manager informs him, smiling. He gently rubs Yunho’s back. “We started watching a movie, he stayed up a little longer than you said yesterday.” It’s a good sign, and Hongjoong sighs in relief. Small steps forward count for progress, and he’s happy for that. Hongjoong sighs at the answer, feeling a lot better knowing that. He sits on the couch next to their manager, who pauses to check his wristwatch. “It’s almost time for his next dose, I think.”

“But he looks so peaceful,” Hongjoong murmurs. The medication’s already on the coffee table, so all they have to do is wake Yunho. Hongjoong looks at the manager with the saddest puppy-eyes he can muster, and the manager laughs; he knows Hongjoong doesn’t want to wake him, so he takes it upon himself to do it. He lifts his hand to pat Yunho’s shoulder gently, then moves his fingers up to brush hair from Yunho’s face.

“Yunho-ya… kiddo, can you wake up for me?”

Yunho grumbles, eyes scrunching as his shoulders curl in. The manager pats his back again.

“Come on… your captain wants to say hi.”

Yunho leans his head towards the sound of Hongjoong’s whispery giggle, smiling when he feels the small hands smoothing back his hair. “Good morning, Yunho-ya.”

“It’s not morning,” Yunho grumbles, as he slowly blinks open his eyes. “Welcome back. How was…” His voice trails off, but his brows furrow as he lays his head back down, as if trying to think. “Today was… practices?”

Hongjoong nods. “Right. Just practices. Today I had a vocal lesson and we did some hip-hop practice in the studio.”

Yunho smiles, his eyes closing again. “I love hip-hop practice. What song?”

“Tipsy. It’s fun, you’ll like it.” Hongjoong says with a smile. He reaches over to pat Yunho’s shoulder himself. “Come on, stay awake?”

Yunho tries to swat his hand away. He has no coordination with his movements, and his hand flapping misses Hongjoong’s by a mile. “Hyung, make him let me sleep!” he whines to the manager. Their manager just laughs, but ends up helping Yunho sit up, to the younger man’s dismay. With another whine, Yunho sits up and rubs at his eyes. “Why…”

“Medicine time,” Hongjoong answers softly. “Do you want to try and eat some more soup?”

Yunho thinks about it, but then shakes his head. “Stomach feels kind of off, actually…” He frowns a little, leaning back on the couch. Not too shocking to either of them. The manager checks his fever again before Hongjoong passes over the cup of medication. Fever holding steady, but not too high. Yunho downs the medication like a bad shot, then revels in the cool water bottle the manager hands him afterward. The manager just helps him stand up, and both of them lead him back to Hongjoong’s bed. Curling back under the blanket, Yunho falls asleep quickly.

His fever drops by the fourth day. Yunho stays awake a little longer, enough to watch a few episodes of a romance drama with Jongho, to which both complain about the protagonist for a little over some terrible decisions. Hongjoong comes back to Jongho handing Yunho a small plush, only for him to throw it back at the television screen.

“I’m going crazy if I keep watching this!” he gripes.

Hongjoong laughs. “This drama is nuts. Jjong-ie loves it.” But what Hongjoong loves is the bright smile on Yunho’s face he can see. Yunho’s looking more lively, and even with the fever-flush still living across his cheeks, his laugh when Jongho throws the stuffed animal at him is all the more worth it. Yunho ends up napping around the fourth episode in, curled up against Jongho’s side on the couch, and Jongho dutifully ices his bruise until the skin feels too cold under the touch. It’s looking better, and Yunho isn’t wincing too much upon touch. It’s small steps forward, but it’s still good.

Yunho wakes up around dinnertime, with an appetite he hasn’t had in at least a week. Mingi spoon feeds him some miso soup, and when he realizes he isn’t likely to throw it back up, he eats two salty crackers to keep them down.  He’s curled up on the youngest’s side, idly staring at the comedy show on TV when he catches Jongho running his hand through his hair in a rare form of physical affection.

“You’re looking better,” Jongho says softly as Yunho nibbles on a third cracker. “Not feeling as warm, either.”

“Good,” Yunho answers. “I miss eating… I like food.”

Mingi laughs. “When you’re feeling better, we can go to barbecue, okay?”

“And Yunho can treat us all for taking care of him for so much.”

With a small snicker at the maknae’s words, Yunho leans his head down and gives them a thumbs up. He’s ready; he’s smelled meat numerous times this week and he wants some too!

Mingi and Jongho help him take another bath after he complained about feeling gross, and they help him into Mingi’s bed this time. Yunho already feels steadier on his own, brushing his teeth without holding onto the counter for balance. Mingi’s got his medication and a water bottle ready for him when he’s ready, and he leads the sleepy vocalist into bed once he’s properly dosed up. Yunho curls up to Mingi’s side, tucking his face into his shoulder.

“One more run?” Seonghwa asks, a little timid. His beanie has been abandoned, hair sweat-soaked. He’s got the moves down, but Yunho knows he just wants to prove it to himself. Yunho knows it’s just for personal reassurance, but he knows it wouldn’t hurt to do it again.

But when Wooyoung pouts, shoulders drooping, Yunho shakes his head.

“We’re meeting again in the morning. We should rest,” Yunho says. “I can still do a run-through with you though, hyung.”

That’s when Wooyoung shakes his head again, wiggling his arms. “It’s okay, Yunho-ya. Let’s do one more together.”

Yunho takes an extra moment to look at all of them, at a determination burning through all of their eyes despite the soreness in their bones, the exhaustion in their muscles, and they’re ready. So he nods. Turns on the camera.

“Last run for tonight. Make it count.”

The manager in the room with them hits play. They dance, as if they’re going to win the MAMA awards from their little dance room in KQ. The mirrors are a little fogged from the heat. There’s a musk of sweat and mixed colognes and soaps in the room. And they’re singing, just to be sure. Yunho doesn’t feel anything wrong; in game mode, he’s not thinking about anything but his next steps. Checking formations. Making sure everyone’s where they need to be. And it’s flawless.

When they stop, the manager turns off the camera. San and Yeosang both drop to their knees. Wooyoung rushes to his water bottle.

And that’s when Yunho feels his side throbbing in anger. Dehydration, hunger, overworking? Nothing some ibuprofen and dinner can’t fix. He sips his water as they monitor the playback, and their manager claps his hands, impressed with their last take.

Hongjoong grins to the group. He’s tired, Yunho can tell, wiping his hair with a white towel—or it was white, now streaked with various colors of hair dye that never fully washed out. But he gathers everyone’s attention, while Yunho starts the turn-off procedures. “Okay, everyone. We’ve got twelve hours. It’s… one now. We’re leaving at one in the afternoon to film. Rest, sleep, eat. And be in the lobby by 12:45.”

Recording saved. Camera turned off. Computer shutting down. Everyone grabs their bags and water bottles and towels, and Yunho watches them all leave before he flips off the lights. The manager closes the door, and they all split to head home. Yunho barely recalls his ride home, crammed in a car with five other members as the manager takes them home, while Seonghwa drives his dorm in his own vehicle. Goodbyes in the hall, and they split to their various dorms without much conversation or fanfare. Yeosang ends up in the kitchen finding a protein drink, and he hands a shake to Yunho and encourages him to drink it. Neither of them is particularly hungry, but the shake hits the spot for the tall dancer. He fills his water bottle from the fridge, then head to their separate rooms to sleep.

Yunho’s body feels like lead. He lets his brain turn off, working on autopilot as he takes a shower, brushes his teeth, and puts on all of his good skincare. He has to be camera ready, after all. Yunho doesn’t even remember to plug his phone into the charger as he falls into bed, the ibuprofen finally kicking in and lulling him to sleep.

He awakens to darkness, with his entire body throbbing in a way that felt almost unnatural. But Yunho understands what this pain is; he’s a dancer, after all. It’s overexertion, it’s exhaustion, it’s the determination to keep going forward. But it didn’t need him going at… whatever time it was. Grumbling, Yunho grabs his phone, using the flashlight to lead his path to the bathroom. He pulls out a bottle of painkillers, knocking two into his hand. Swallowing them with some sink water, Yunho trudges back to his room and just flops back into bed.

~*~

The smiles are earnest, if not a little forced. Yunho’s cheeks are a gentle rose, as are his ears, as Wooyoung and Seonghwa share a silly story of his mismatched shoes that morning. He holds a foot up in the interview to show his shiny boots, with a grin. “The stylists helped me this morning. Error corrected!”

The interviewer laughed. They were almost done, and while Hongjoong talks about how excited he was for the song to drop, Yunho does his best to focus on his leader. His back is twinging again. He doesn’t like the chairs they’re perched in, but he’s sitting with his hands on his knees to keep him from wiggling. But sitting so steadily makes the pain all the more apparent. His legs are sore. His knees are stiff. His shoulders are tense. His headache is creeping back.

And the smile stays on, for the next fifteen minutes of the interview. Teeth glistening of gentle laughter as they shake hands and drink water and move from the chairs and stretch. San pops his shoulder, and everyone looks over in surprise. Even the vocalist looks stunned, but he rolls his arm around and ensures there’s no pain, just a noise. Wooyoung leans into a manager’s side and asks to be carried, complains he feels weak like a newborn deer. Mingi laughs, and someone pushes Jongho over—and Wooyoung runs to hide behind Yunho. The smaller one’s hands land on his shoulders, and a jolt of knifesharp pain shoots down his spine. He tenses.

But Wooyoung, ever so observant, pauses in his teasing the youngest to look at him. “Yunho-ya? Are you… are you okay?”

Yunho nods, stiffly. He doesn’t answer more than a simple “yeah”. The smile stays plastered, but he feels Wooyoung’s hands loosen their grip and rub at his shoulders instead. But even the touch feels uncomfortable, his neck starting to ache. Everything just… hurts. Yunho moves around to push Wooyoung in Jongho’s direction, and as the two begin a silly game of roughhouse, he steps away under the guise of going to the bathroom, and he takes a moment to just breathe.

In, out. In, out. The ache in his back lessens, and he takes a breather. He’s… so tired.

Someone knocks. “Yunho-ya? Are you okay?”

It’s Seonghwa.

Yunho sighs. He can’t just lie to his hyung, but… he’s gonna try.

“I’m okay,” he says. He washes his hands, to at least keep up the façade, and heads back out. “Sorry, I’m okay now.”

“You look hurt…” Seonghwa says softly. “We’ll get you some painkillers at the dorm, okay?”

At the dorm? Yunho looks up and checks the clock—it’s only 5. He figured they’d have more dance practice, or a meeting, or something. They’re usually busy. Catching his confusion, Seonghwa grins. “We convinced manager-nim to let us take a break. Wooyoung’s ankle hurts and he’s walking funny now.”

He is? That was… new. Seonghwa just laughs and shakes his head, and Yunho gets it—Wooyoung is getting them out of dance practice by being his melodramatic, acting self. With a grin of his own, Yunho nods.

“Okay, hyung, let’s go back to the dorms.”

~*~

They all split to shower, but Seonghwa comes back to Yunho’s and Yeosang’s apartment, with Wooyoung in tow. Yeosang, already out of the shower, is in the middle of making microwave ramen when Wooyoung takes over, a bag of ingredients in his hands.

“Felt like a soup day,” he explains. He still lets Yeosang eat his ramen; he knows Yeosang will still eat his cooking, too.

Seonghwa offers to rub some pain balm on Yeosang, who accepts some for his calf that’s been twinging. That’s where Yunho finds them when he gets out of his shower, Yeosang sitting on the couch with his sweats tugged up to his knees, one foot glistening with cream, his other currently getting lathered up.

“Oh! Yunho-ya! Good shower?” Yeosang asks.

Yunho smiles. He just wants to lay down, to be honest, but the heat relaxed him enough. And he can already smell the aroma from the kitchen; he sees Wooyoung in the side chair, scrolling on his phone. That means dinner… he’ll stay up for dinner.

“Mhmm. I almost didn’t want to get out. I see why Mingi goes to the saunas so much.”

Seonghwa laughs at that. “He’s not wrong. But come sit! When I finish massaging Yeosang’s calf, I’ll rub some cream on your back, okay?”

That startles the dancer. He wants to ask ‘how did you know’, but he catches Wooyoung’s eye and sighs. There’s no getting past them.